


Two Dumbass Princes

by Lee_Moriarty



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Crowley calls Beelz his Zaza because they be NB, Don't ask me why, Gay, M/M, No Beta, SO GAY, Slight Violence, We fall like Crowley, beelzebub is crowley's mom in this, crowley is a shit liar, gabriel is aziraphale's bastard dad, he also calls them his 'custodian', i swear it makes sense in context, i think, it fits, like gayer than I am, my poor gay heart was ruined by the two princes podcast and now y'all get this, numerous gay panics, the two princes podcast AU, these gay dumbasses, what the hell crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Moriarty/pseuds/Lee_Moriarty
Summary: Crowley is the prince of the Western Kingdom, barely tolerating life with his 'custodian', King Beelzebub. As a looming magical forest threatens to take over his kingdom, he ventures into it so that he may slay whatever creature is causing the curse. What he isn't expecting, is Aziraphale, the prince of the Eastern Kingdom and a little bit of a bastard. Can he complete his quest or will he find himself dealing with confusing new emotions?[Based off of the Two Princes Podcast, which is amazing and everyone should go and listen to it]
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This is like the first fanfiction I've written since I was like fourteen, so it's probably shit. But I listened to the Two Princes and decided that it would be perfect for a Good Omens AU and now here we are. I hope you enjoy!

Prince Crowley of The Western Kingdom just wanted answers. He didn’t think that was anything worth getting in trouble for. The Forbidden Book was, of course, forbidden by the law of the land. It didn’t make sense to him though. What could be wrong with knowing about the forest? The kingdom needed to drive it back from the land. It was clearly on a path of destruction set to wipe out his people.  
The forest had been there for a thousand years according to his Custodian. They told him that it was created as a curse after the King of the East and the King of the West went to war with each other. It had slowly been encroaching on the kingdoms since. It had picked up in the last few years though. His custodian didn’t think that he needed to know about what was going on though. And he hated being kept in the dark. So of course, he decided that his best bet was to steal the book from the royal vault.  
He didn’t expect to be caught stealing the book though. If things had gone according to his plan, he would have made it back to his room with the Forbidden Book. It didn’t work though. As fast as he could run, his custodian’s guards were able to run faster and he was caught quickly. It was a little embarrassing though, being dragged in front of the court and thrown down in front of the throne.  
“I hear you gave my guardzz quite a run around, thief,” his custodian said, looking down at him from their throne. “Remove that cloak, coward and tell me what you have to say for yourzzelf,”  
Sir Hastur pulled his cloak off for him and her could hear the chatter in the court pick up as he looked up. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he was very glad that his sunglasses kept people from seeing his eyes. He liked having the covering, it felt protective and kept him from having to address the actual anger in his custodian’s eyes.  
“Crowley!”  
“Hey Zaza,” he said dumbly. He sat up a bit on his knees, looking at his custodian and frowning at them. “How’s it going?”  
He could see the anger and frustration building in his custodian’s eyes and he flinched back just a bit, not wanting to think about what kind of punishment was going to occur for this particular action. What he wasn’t expecting though, was for his custodian to grab his ear, pulling him up from the ground and towards the exit of the room.  
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, you’re going to rip my ear off,” he protested, doing his best to keep up with his custodian. They were a head shorter than he was and it made it even harder to keep up as he was basically folded into half trying to keep his ear in place.  
“I’ll rip as many of your earzzz off az I have to, Crowley,” they buzzed at him, using their free hand to throw the door to his room open. He stumbled as his ear was released and he was basically thrown into his room.  
“What’s so wrong about me knowing about the forest? You know I can see how much it’s growing into our kingdom,” he asked, picking himself up and turning back to look at his custodian.  
“It’s not for you to know about, Crowley. You’re not setting foot in that forest,” Beelzebub told him, “And zince you can’t zzeem to listen to me, you’re grounded.”  
“What!?”  
“You’re grounded. And don’t even think about climbing out your window. We just restocked the moat with new crocodilezz and I’ve been too busy to feed them.”  
“But, Zaza!”  
“I’ll zee you tomorrow, Crowley.”  
Crowley huffed, listening as the door. Behind Beelzebub, the door slammed shut and he could hear the locks clicking. He wasn’t going to be getting out of his room any time soon. With a sigh, he turned and went over to his bed. Lounging in the sun was a large black and red snake, curled up on the bed. He smiled at that snake, holding his hand out. Its tongue flicked out at him and he smiled.  
“Hey there, Raphael,” he greeted the snake, letting it slither up his arm. After a moment, the snake’s tongue flicked against his ear. “Things would be different if my dad were still around. He’d have defeated the forest ages ago,”  
The snake didn’t say anything. Of course it didn’t. It just flicked its tongue at his ear again.  
“You’re right, Raphael,” he agreed with the snake. He sighed and sat down on the bed. “Things would be different. And I wouldn’t be so…” he trailed off. The snake moved across his shoulders and its nose bumped into his cheek. “Yeah, Raphael. I wouldn’t be so alone.”

><

“After all I’ve done, how can he be zzzo ungrateful? Do you know the zacrifices that I’ve made for him?”  
“Yes, your Majesty,” Dagon said, looking bored and monotonous as they looked at their King.  
“People are looking to us for guidance. For us to lead them from the forest and keep them zafe,” Beelzebub ranted, pacing the throne room. They looked distressed in a very emotionless kind of way. “If I don’t keep him buzy with these stupid jobs and responsibilitezzz, who knowz what he may get into.”  
“Yes, your Majesty.”  
“Can’t you say anything else?!” Beelzebub yelled at them, stopping in their pacing. “You’re the Lord Chamberlain, I pay you for to advizze me.”  
“Well, if I may, your Majesty, why don’t we tell Prince Crowley about the prophecy?” they suggested. It was a mistake though, as hands soon wrapped around their throat.  
“Don’t even zuggest zomething like that,” Beelzebub threatened. “We will not be telling the prince any of that.”  
“Yes, yes, of course, your...ambidextrousness,” Dagon wheezed, feeling their airway being cut off by their lord. “Perhaps we should create some form of distraction for the prince,” they suggested, voice raspy.  
Beelzebub looked at them before nodding, releasing their grip on Dagon’s throat. “What a great idea. He won’t even think about running off to the forest then.” There was a pause and Beelzebub looked back at their underling, “Well, burn that book. I don’t want it in my kingdom anymore,” they ordered.  
“Burning the book won’t get rid of the prophecy, my Lord,” Dagon reminded them, shaking their head and taking the book from Beelzebub.  
“Do it anyway! I can’t have him causing more issues just because he knows about some prophecy that may or may not be about him!”  
“Yes, your Majesty,” Dagon bowed carefully and left the room, the Forbidden Book clutched against their chest.

><  
“Crowley.”  
He sat up in bed, doing his best to look around the pitch dark room. A small sliver of light made its way into the area through the window, but it was hardly enough to illuminate anything that might be hiding in the shadows. “Who’s there?” He asked, grabbing his sunglasses from the bed next to him. It seemed counterintuitive to put them on, but they made him feel a bit more protected.  
“Crowley.”  
He swallowed, looking around. He flinched a bit as he felt something touched his hand. He relaxed as he realised it was Raphael and he allowed the snake to slither up his arm. He got out of bed, trying to find whatever it was calling his name.  
“Go to the forest.” He didn’t like the voice. It was raspy and wrong. It didn’t seem like it belonged to any real thing. He looked around the room as best he could, the voice disappearing after another order to ‘go to the forest.’  
Slowly, he sank down onto the floor, his legs shaking as he leaned back against his bed. “What do you think that was, Raphael?”

><

“Crowley, get up off that floor!” Beelzebub snapped as they barged into his bedroom. “You’re not a dog.”  
Crowley jerked awake, eyes snapping open as he blearily looked over at his custodian. “Wha?” He mumbled, his sunglasses hanging off one of his ears. He reached up, fixing them before looking around the room.  
“Get up, idiot. We’ve got things to do!” Beelzebub frowned at the snake slithering over the ground, stepping back from it. “Shoo, Raphael, don’t make me mad,” they hissed at it.  
Crowley frowned, reaching out and picking the snake up. He could feel it moving along his arm as he stood up. “What things?”  
“Well, since it’s your birthday soon, I’ve decided that we’re going to have a giant, unforgettable-.”  
Crowley interrupted them, “Party?”  
“Royal wedding,” Beelzebub finished instead. “Or execution of a rebellious prince, it could go either way.”  
“I’m sorry, what?” Crowley gaped at them.  
“The people love weddings or an execution. It’ll be a great distraction for everyone!” Beelzebub told him. They paused and then looked back at the open door. “Dagon, get in here!”  
The Lord Chamberlain did as told, shuffling into the room obediently. In their hand was a paper, which they held carefully.  
“Have you finished the proclamation?” Beelzebub asked them, turning their attention completely to their advisor.  
Dagon nodded, clearing their throat and looking down at the paper. “To all eligible ladies in the Kingdom, in the Name of King Beelzebub, we extend an announcement of a royal ball. To all of those wishing to leave the obscurity of your poor lives, bring your dancing shoes and an itemized list of your dowry to the castle tonight for your chance to marry Prince Crowley. Drawbridge opens exactly at eight,” they read, tone even as they spoke.  
“You can’t be serious.” Crowley huffed at them, shaking his head as he tried to fully wrap his mind around what he was being told. “You can’t just marry me off.”  
“See, that’s the thing. I can. And I will,” Beelzebub answered. “Now, you can behave or do I need to bring in the guard?”  
“What?”  
Beelzebub pursed their lips and looked at him, their face almost sympathetic. “You know I only do what I have to. We must protect the kingdom, mustn’t we, Crowley?” they pretended to rationalise, looking at him. “You understand, right?” They had moved closer to him, their hands taking his.  
He made an odd noise, some kind of half choke as he tried to figure out what Beelzebub was playing at. “Yeah, right…” he agreed.  
“Good,” they let go of his hands and whistled. “Guards, take Prince Crowley to his throne and tie him there.”  
Crowley’s eyes widened as he was dragged off by two of the kingdom’s guards. One of them was Sir Hastur, who seemed to be taking great pleasure in dragging him through the castle and towards the throne room. “What if I have to pee?!” Crowley shouted.  
“Hold it,” Beelzebub said simply, seeming far too pleased with themselves.

><

The day passed agonisingly slowly. The restraints that Hastur used were cutting into his hands and he was still in his pajamas, which were nothing more than just a pair of black boxer. At least it wasn’t too cold in the throne room, as twelve hours in a freezing room with almost no clothing would have made it worse than hell. Hastur had been standing off to the side, a pleased grin on his face.  
By the time the ball rolled around, he was already tired of sitting in the chair. His custodian was sitting on the throne next to him, with no regard to how he was feeling. Beelzebub was sunk low in the chair, in true queer fashion. As horrible as Crowley’s lack of clothing was, Beelzebub was wearing a horrible collection of clothing, the worst part being a fishing net just thrown over their lap.  
Girl after girl was led in front of him, various people that he couldn’t find it in himself to care about. A rather annoying girl stopped in front of him, her breath almost wheezing with excitement. He didn’t even catch her name before she started to talk. “Prince Crowley, I’m such a huge fan of yours, like I’m fangirling so hard right now.”  
He already disliked her.  
Beelzebub said something, probably the girl’s name or something before asking a couple pointed questions. “Didn’t you tell me about a garden the other day?”  
“Garden? Why would I even be close to dirt?” the girl echoed before some kind of understanding crossed her face. “OOooh, yeah, garden.” She winked badly and Crowley sighed. He was going to have to listen to her talk about something his Custodian had coached her to say.  
“What was the name of the garden you were at?”  
The girl giggled and looked at him like he was stupid. “Don’t be silly, gardens don’t have names.”  
Crowley closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not wanting to deal with her any more. He could hear Beelzebub usher her away.  
“Well, I must go frighten some of our guests. Do try to behave, Crowley,” they ordered, walking away from the throne to go make some poor creature feel bad about themselves.  
He didn’t get peace for long though as a rumbling shook the castle and he opened his eyes to see that vines and trees had sprung up from the ground. People were screaming and running around, trying to get away from the vines that were snapping out and grabbing at people. He started trying to shake out of the restraints holding him. He didn’t have any chance of living if the vines decided to get him. He was pretty firmly stuck.  
Suddenly, a knife flashed and his bonds were cut and Dagon was looking at him, knife in hand. “Lord Chamberlain, thank you,” he managed, standing and trying to get some feeling back into his wrists.  
“You must go. To the forest. There is a prophecy,” Dagon informed him, shoving a sword into Crowley’s hands and looking at him. “Unfortunately, you are apparently the only one who can save us from destruction.”  
Crowley wanted to ask more questions, of course he did. He was always full of questions. But he couldn’t. A map was shoved into his free hand and then Dagon was shoving him from the throne room and towards the door.  
“Get out of here. Go to the Hollow and save the kingdom.”

><

He ran. Once he left the castle, he could hear the screams of the party guests die down. The commotion was gone and it seemed like his custodian had things under control. Good. It was less for him to have to think about as he shoved the map into the pocket of the jeans he’d hastily thrown on. He’d gone back to his room only long enough to change, not wanting to go save the kingdom in nothing but a pair of boxers.  
His horse was waiting for him, already saddled and tethered to the outside of the stables. It was as if the Lord Chamberlain had planned this the whole time. He untethered the horse, mounting it with a silent grumbling about how hard horses were on the buttocks, before riding towards the forest.  
In the distance, he could hear something call his name. “Crowley,” it called, the same raspy voice that called to him only the night before. He gritted his teeth, thinking about how he needed to get through the forest so that he could fight whatever was there waiting for him.  
He was so caught up in thinking about how heroic the whole journey was going to be, he didn’t notice the bitter wind that spooked his horse. He gasped as he was thrown off, the horse galloping back in the direction of the castle without a single thought. Crowley huffed, picking himself up off of the ground.  
He dusted off his clothes, looking up into the looming forest which now stood just in front of him. His name was echoed on the wind and he swallowed hard, “Well, I’ve got two legs and determination. I’ll make it through. Besides, I’ll just have a better chance to see some of the plants,” he reasoned with himself as he slipped into the forest.


	2. A Prince and A Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley enters the forest and has to deal with man-eating plants and a man who might be an angel, but is also a bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who knows how common these updates will be? Because I don't! But enjoy? Chapter three will be up sometime in the next like three days? Hopefully. I'm doing this to avoid NaNo responsibilities, so it might be finished by next week.

The appeal of the trees and other plants in the forest soon left. As Crowley traipsed through the foliage, he cursed the countless vines and thorns that tugged at his clothes. “Stupid trees,” he muttered, stumbling a bit over a root. He was trying to hack through the trees, sword swinging as he fought his way through. “Stupid horse.”  
It would have been much easier if his horse hadn’t been dumb and run off without him. The journey would have been much quicker and he would have been able to get himself through the woods and to the Hollow before his birthday even dawned. Without his horse, it was going to take at least a day just to get there. Two to get there and home again.   
“Stupid voices calling me into this forest,” he grumbled to himself, a vine catching on his shirt and scraping at his arm. “Stupid vines!” he huffed, whirling around and glaring at the tree that had dared to scratch him. “Don’t touch me!” he screamed at it. His sunglasses had fallen slightly as he whirled around, and he had to sheath his sword, seething as he fixed them.   
“I never should have come into this stupid forest,” he huffed at himself, starting to walk again before stopping and looking around. He pulled the map from his pocket, realising it had been a while since he had checked where he was going. There was a tree near him that caught his attention and he looked down at the map. “Well, if that weird looking tree is the tree with the skull looking branches on the map, then I’m going in the right direction,” he reasoned, nodding. He was quite proud of himself that he had managed not to get lost yet, so he was just going to run off the high that came with being right.   
It didn’t last long though. A buzzing filled the air and Crowley swallowed hard as he tried to figure out what was coming at him. He whirled around as he tried to look for the source of the noise. Spinning in a circle proved to be worthless and just made him dizzy, so he drew his sword and braced himself for whatever was coming at him.   
The cause of the noise was the largest wasp he had ever encountered in his whole life. It was easily the same size as he was, except it could fly and had a giant stinger. He really had no chance against some goliath wasp that seemed intent on gutting him with the wicked sharp sting attached to it. He swung his sword around wildly, not sure what to do. He was always bad with swords. Beelzebub never really allowed him to learn to use one, so he had almost no experience with them.   
Luckily for him though, his wild swings caught the wasp. He stared in shock as the sword stuck in the wasp’s head. It buzzed at him angrily before falling to the ground and growing silent. He realised that his heart was pounding as he pulled the sword from the wasp. “I did it,” he breathed, chest heaving as his eyes went wide behind his dark sunglasses. He attempted to twirl the sword in his hand only to drop it almost immediately.   
Picking it up, he looked around as if he was worried about someone seeing him. When he remembered that no one was going to be near him, he grinned, sheathing the sword. “Guess I’m basically a natural at this hero thing,” he boasted, before his ears picked up even more buzzing. “Oh no,” he breathed, shaking his head as he realised that a whole swarm of man sized wasps were coming at him.   
He took off running, glancing over his shoulder periodically. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to kill your friend,” he yelled back at the swarm. “To be fair, I wasn’t even the one who started it.”  
The wasps didn’t seem to care about him being sorry or anything. They just kept coming at him and he was losing ground against them. “Come on, I didn’t mean anything by it!” Crowley insisted, turning back to look at them and then realising that there was nothing underneath his feet and that he was falling.   
He landed quickly at least, some kind of mud and mushroom combination breaking his fall with an ungodly squelch. Gagging as he breathed in the foul air, he tried to figure out what was going on. “What is that smell?” he managed, trying not to breath as he tried to stand up. Mud and other things that smelled like rotting stuff was stuck to his clothing and he wrinkled his nose. “I’m definitely going to be needing to take a bath after this,” he grumbled.  
He grumbled a bit to himself before remembering he did in fact need to breathe and he inhaled without really wanting too. It smelled much better than it had when he had first fallen into the pit. “Huh, you know, once you get used to it, the smell isn’t actually that bad.” He inhaled again, taking in some sweet floral scent that he couldn’t quite place. “It almost smells like….a field of roses,” he hummed, thinking about it as he got to his feet and looked around.   
“Come to me,” he heard some soft voice coming from down, further in the pit. He paused, wondering who would be speaking at him.  
“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice sounding a bit odd to his ears.   
“Come to me, darling,” the voice said again. It was soft and melodic, calling to him. The smell was getting even stronger now and he could pick out even more flowers and their scents.   
“Darling?” he repeated, his mind foggy and wrong. “I could be someone’s darling.” He took a few steps closer to where the voice was coming.   
“I’ve been waiting for you, darling.” it said, luring him down.   
“You have? Well, uh...I guess I’ve never been very good with time,” he breathed, eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. Without even thinking about it, he removed his sunglasses with one hand.   
“Where are you?”  
“I’m down in this pit, where are you?” he asked, words a bit slurred as he sluggishly walked towards the voice he was hearing.   
“Follow my voice, darling. Come to me,” it lured him, beginning to sing to him. It was beautiful and enchanting and he felt like he could spend all of his days listening to the voice. He stumbled a few steps.   
“You know, just so like, there isn’t any kind of miscommunication, I’m not really looking for anything romantic?” he admitted, trying his best to ignore the comments about the voice eating him. He didn’t want to think about that. It didn’t make him feel as good as listening to the voice did. “What is this place?”  
“Come closer. You’re in the Garden of Delight,” the voice told him and he could feel something wrapping around his wrists and legs. It was similar to when Raphael coiled around him. He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on.   
“What are these?” he asked, trying to pry them off of him. He managed to get a hand up just high enough to replace his sunglasses, before realising that the coils around his arms and legs were pulling him.   
“There’s nothing, darling. Don’t worry about it. Now, what is your name?”  
He struggled to find any words, they weren’t coming to him. His body felt heavy and his mind clouded full of cotton. His limbs didn’t want to move and he was confused. “Cro…” he paused, struggling to remember his name. “I know this, just wait a moment,” he mumbled, searching his brain for his name. “Crowley, my name is Crowley,” he managed to get out finally, feeling a bit happy about the fact he had managed to find it. “I’m pretty sure I need to be going somewhere,” he said, squinting a bit as he furrowed his brows and tried to figure out what was going on.   
“No, you don’t need to leave,” the voice sang and he shook his head, struggling a bit more.   
“I need to go.”  
“No one ever leaves the garden of delight. You can’t leave,” the voice yelled at him as he really began trying to get away.   
“No, I have to go. Help!” he yelled, hoping that someone might actually be able to help him even if he knew that the chances of help were incredibly slim. No one else was going to be in the forest and he was out of luck as far as help went. “What are you?” he asked the thing.   
“I’m a very hungry plant, foolish human. And I’ve not had a meal as big as you in ages,” the plant screeched at him, pulling him even closer now that he had caught onto it’s plan.   
“No, help!” he screamed, doing his best to try and pull himself away. He closed his eyes when he realised that wasn’t going to work. He braced for the inevitable death that was coming. He had no chance to save his kingdom now. He couldn’t save anyone dead, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it now. He was doomed.   
“Stand back, foul fiend!” A strange voice filled the pit and Crowley opened his eyes as he saw an all too bright figure slice the tentacles that had been holding him still. He scrambled up to his feet, chest heaving as he tried to figure out what was going on. “There’s a rope at the end of the tunnel, get out of here!” the figure shouted at him.  
Crowley didn’t hesitate even a second as he bolted away from the monster and towards the rope that the strange guy had left for them. He adjusted his glasses before he started to climb the rope, making it out. He could hear in the distance the sounds of fighting and then saw the very blond head of his rescuer coming up from the pit.   
“What was that?” he asked his savior, staring at him as he tried to get his bearings.   
“A plant monster. They’re all over this forest.”  
“Well, I’m glad you were here.”  
“Yes, it’s a good thing that I’ve been following you for the last hour,” the figure shrugged, sheathing his sword and looking at him.   
“You what?” Crowley frowned, struggling to think of any words to fill the situation. He was always bad with words and this was making it even harder. “Well, thank you for saving me and for being beautiful,” he said, looking at him before realising what he had just said to the other. His cheeks went bright red and he started stammering. “I mean for being brave. Brave. Thank you for being brave. Not that you aren’t attractive, I mean, you are. You’re really very attractive and I mean if you were to put a sword to my throat and asked If I thought you were ugly or attractive, I’d have to say that you’re attractive. That’s just an objective fact, you really are quite beautiful.” The stranger was staring at him and Crowley felt like he was going to combust right there on the spot. “I mean. What I meant to say was ``thank you,” he finished after a moment, clearing his throat as he tried to regain a bit of his composure.   
The other just stared at him, his own cheeks a slightly deeper pink than they had been originally. He was dressed in what Crowley assumed used to be a very fashionable cream coloured outfit. It was a bit dirtier now. Still very well put together and no where near as beat up as his own clothes now were. His hair was an odd almost unnatural light blond to the point where it actually looked like he was blond. His eyes were the brightest blue color Crowley had ever seen and his poor heart stuttered a bit as he wondered if he’d ever be able to cultivate a flower that bloomed in the exact same shade of blue.   
He then realised that the other had a rope in his hand and he swallowed hard. “What’s that rope for?” he asked, taking a step back.   
“Well, as I don’t know or trust you, and I have numerous questions, I’m going to dangle you upside down from that tree, dear boy, and question you,” the other said, before doing exactly what he said he was going to do. Crowley didn’t even have a chance to react before he found himself upside down, staring at the other’s figure as he tried to figure out what was going on.   
“Well, this was just unnecessary,” he commented, feeling the blood rushing to his head. This was really not how he was expecting his day to go. But at least the view was nice. He didn’t really have an issue with being stuck staring at the handsome stranger in front of him.   
“Who are you?” the other asked, hands on his hips.   
Crowley panicked. He didn’t want anyone to take him back to the castle. He had things to do. “I’m no one, just passing through, you know,” he lied, cracking an awkward smile. He could feel his glasses slip a bit and honestly, he was surprised that they were even still on now that he was hanging upside down. He didn’t question it though. He didn’t want them breaking when he was in a place where he wasn’t able to fix them or get a new pair.   
“Your clothes are of Western origin and your sword is a royal sword. Are you here with the royal family? Are they in this wood?” he asked, clear hatred for the Western kingdom in his voice.   
“What?” Crowley pretended to scoff, wanting to hide his inner panic as he looked round. Part of him hoped that there might be a way to escape and not deal with questioning from such a gorgeous stranger.   
“Are you working for the Royal family of the West?” the other asked.   
“No, I’m not. I have nothing to do with them.”  
The other didn’t look like he believed him, but luckily, he wasn’t questioned any further about if he knew the royal family. “Who are you then?”   
Well, he couldn’t exactly give his actual name to the other, could he? Crowley wasn’t exactly a common name and he didn’t want to be associated with himself if the other so clearly hated his family, “It’s...Raphhhael,” he lied after a moment, panicking and supplying the first name that he could think of. “Yep, that’s my name. Raphael. That’s what everyone calls me, Raphael. Or well, not many people do because I live here. In the forest. Where no one lives,” he winced as he realised just how bad his lie was.   
“You live here, in the forbidden forest?” the other asked, looking a bit surprised before almost looking like he was planning on asking another question. He didn’t ask anything though, not for a moment at least. “Why do you live here? It’s hardly a nice place to be spending all of your time, my dear boy.”  
“Well, angel.” Now where did that come from? Angel? What kind of nickname was that? Who gave nicknames like that to their mysterious rescuers who then immediately tied them up. Then again, who called the person they were interrogating ‘dear boy’. It seemed like neither of them really knew how to interact in this kind of situation. Although, who would? “I live in this forest...the very forbidden forest that no one is supposed to go into, because I am…” he paused for a moment, panicking as he tried to figure out what to say in response. “I live here because I am a demon,” he lied quickly before deciding he needed to add even more detail to what he was telling the other. “I am the most cunning and wiliest demon from the Western Kingdom, which we both hate, so I live here, in the forbidden forest.”  
The other looked annoyed. Well, as annoyed as someone as angelic as he could look. No, it was bad to think of the other as angelic. Angels don’t tie people to trees. Unless they did. So maybe angels do tie people to trees. “Well, that’s just no good,” he said finally, shaking his head as he began to turn to go.   
“What? You can’t just leave!” he asked, trying to figure out what the other was doing. He wasn’t just going to leave him there tied to a tree! He’d die. Some monster was going to come and tear him to shreds.  
“I can’t exactly leave some evil demon to wander around these woods. I’m doing a service to any one who lives near here. I don’t trust you and I see this as ridding the world of one more evil.”  
“What? Come on? I’m like the worst demon ever. I suck at demoning. I just help people on accident and I mean, I’m a hero basically,”  
“A hero?”  
“In the loosest sense of the word, yes,” he admitted, hoping that the lie was going to be enough to get him free from this tree.   
“How long have you lived in this forest?” the other asked, looking at him curiously.   
“Forever. Really. I’ve lived here for ages. Like forever,” he lied, trying to make himself look cool in front of the other. He was hoping that was enough to save him from being eaten by a monster.  
“Well, I’ll tell you what, demon,” the other said after a moment of what looked to be fairly careful deliberation. “My horse and my map ran off from me on my first day here and I need a guide.”  
“Where are you going?” Crowley asked him, frowning as he tried to figure out if he was going to be able to lead the other wherever he was wanting to go.  
“The King’s Hollow. Do you know it?”  
Crowley spluttered a bit. “Ngk, yeah? Why do you want to go there?” he asked, frowning as he thought about what reasons the other might have.   
“That’s none of your business.”  
“Well, then, yeah, of course. Who are you, by the way?” he asked, realising he still had no idea who the other was.   
“I am Prince Aziraphale, of the Eastern Gate Kingdom. Guardian of the flaming sword. Protector of the Innocent. Avenger of Heaven. Have you heard of me?” he asked, looking at him like he was expecting to see recognition in Crowley’s face.  
“Sorry, what was that last one again?”  
“Avenger of Heaven?”  
Crowley frowned a bit, pretending to mull over the new title before clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Nope. Never heard of you.”  
“Really?”  
“Nope, never. Honestly, we don’t really get any news about the Eastern Kingdom. I kind of thought that the forest had gotten to you and wiped you all out,” Crowley admitted, shrugging as best he could while still being suspended upside down.   
“Huh. Well, my dear boy, if you agree to lead me to the Hollow, then I will let you free.”  
“Shake on it?”  
“A prince shake hands with a demon?” Aziraphale scoffed a bit like the very implication seemed ridiculous.   
“Or not, I guess that’s fine then, angel,” he hummed, looking at the rope still holding him up over the ground. “Mind letting me down?”  
“Don’t call me angel.”  
“Well, okay. Boss, let me down?”  
“His Royal Highness will do. Now brace yourself,” Aziraphale said, cutting the rope that was holding him up.   
“Wait, no!” Crowley protested before he crashed into the ground, narrowly avoiding breaking his glasses. He huffed as he picked himself up. “What now then?”  
“Well, since you are now working for me, you can carry my stuff,” Aziraphale said, looking a bit conflicted before nodding and looking at him. “Yeah, carry my stuff.” He slung the bag off of his back and threw it at Crowley. “Come along, Raphael.”  
Crowley grumbled a bit as he took the bag. It was ridiculously heavy and he looked over at Aziraphale, wondering how the other had managed to carry it without even seeming to have an issue. It didn’t make sense to him. He frowned a bit, huffing as he stood up and ran a hand through his hair.   
“So… why are you here?”  
“Are you planning on talking this whole time? You talk a lot, dear boy,” Aziraphale pointed out, pulling his sword from its sheath before beginning to walk. It was clear that he expected Crowley to just follow him with no other instructions. Just as Crowley started walking after him, Aziraphale whipped around and pointed the sword at Crowley. He noticed absently that the sword was flaming. It was really bright and he felt like Aziraphale would be able to see right through the dark lenses of his sunglasses with how bright it was.   
“I, well, how are we supposed to get to know each other if we don’t talk? It’s an awful long walk,” he said, trying to ignore the sword.  
“Well, we’re not supposed to. We’re basically enemies,” Aziraphale said, making a face and Crowley swallowed. “Anyway, I just think you ought to know, if I find out that you’re lying to me, I’ll dangle you from a tree and leave you for the wild beasts.”  
“Right, well, best be off then,” Crowley swallowed, looking at him.


End file.
